


295 feet away

by bellpickle



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 03:52:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5693530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellpickle/pseuds/bellpickle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys<br/>295 feet away<br/>27 years old<br/>Looking for: Dates, Networking, Relationships</p><p>Corporate Dev Looking for Fun<br/>Pic or no chat etc etc, you know the drill. Also to the guy who said I look “skinny and pasty”: kiss my skinny, pasty ass.</p><p>-----</p><p>Jack gets the urge to hook up with a random Hyperion lackey while visiting the New York office. He decides that Grindr is the best way to do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	295 feet away

**Author's Note:**

> [Otohime](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Otohime/pseuds/Otohime) graciously volunteered to translate this fic into Russian. View it [here](https://ficbook.net/readfic/3993394).

Vaughn snuck a peek at Rhys’s phone screen as he walked alongside him, rolling his eyes upon recognizing the overly-familiar Twitter feed on display. “Marry him if you love him so much.”

“I’m not  _ in love _ with him,” Rhys snapped, his voice bordering on a petulant whine. “And besides, I’m so not ready for marriage.”

“Uh huh,” Vaughn replied, sounding totally unconvinced. Both he and Rhys took a big bite of their (way overpriced) falafel sandwiches, attempting to scarf down their lunches as quickly as possible so that they could get back to the late afternoon grind.

Rhys glanced up at the monolith looming over them from a short distance ahead, towering and imposing even in the overstuffed Manhattan skyline: Hyperion’s New York headquarters, the place where Rhys spent 60-ish hours per week hunched over a desk banging out software code. It’s also where their infamous CEO would be stationed for the next week.

“At least he’ll actually be around for the next few days,” Vaugh managed to say between bites. “Not that that really matters for grunts like us.”

“Hey now, think positive. I’m just two promotions away from the director’s chair, after all.” A characteristically wry grin graced Rhys’s lips as he went on to say, “And then I’ll be allowed in the same general vicinity as Jack. Who knows, he might even glance my way once or twice.”

“Woah now, don’t dream too big. Man is not meant to soar to those heights.”

“You’ll see. It’s just a matter of time, my friend.” Rhys finished the last few bites of his sandwich and heaved a sigh as he entered the front doors of Hyperion, swiping his security card at the entrance. Judging by the backlog of tasks in his queue when he left for lunch, it looked to be another long, dull night at the office.

* * *

 

“Departmental updates, meeting minutes, blah blah blah.” Jack closed his email client with a dismissive wave of his hand and slid to the other end of his varnished oak desk to page his assistant. “Hey, Meghan? Be a doll and clear all the useless crap from my inbox. And for chrissake, get the PR director off my back. She’s not getting her grubby little paws on my Twitter password no matter how much she cries and begs. This is America and if Handsome Jack wants to call someone an assclown on the internet then he can damn well do so.” He straightened his back, clearing his throat before adding in a much calmer tone, “Thanks, cupcake.”

Jack stretched into the plush cushion of his swivel chair and idly spun in a circle, hands folded behind his impeccably coiffed head. He had been stuck in back-to-back meetings since arriving, most of them with the Legal and Finance execs. And the seemingly endless hours of contracts and number-crunching had left him in a … particular mood.

He grabbed his personal phone from its hiding place in his vest pocket and scrolled through his contacts, weighing his options. Nisha was probably out in Austin … The only hookup who was definitely in town was Moxxi, but last he heard, she had relocated her bar from Queens to Newark. And there was no way he was going to fucking  _ Newark _ . Besides, he felt he needed a rougher, more masculine touch to relieve this particular itch.

He always had the option of calling an escort service, but he loathed the mere idea--as if he, of all people, needed to pay someone for company. Please.

Jack was well aware of the fact that he had admirers. Hell, even amongst his own employees, he could easily find some starry-eyed mook that would trade a week’s salary for the privilege of sucking his dick.

And that was when Jack came upon a very special idea.

He sprung up from his desk and opted for his leather couch, his mouth stretching into a wide, treacherous grin as he navigated to his apps. Five minutes later, he had himself a specially modified (read: heavily hacked) Grindr app, one that only searched for Hyperion employees. Jack hungrily scanned through rows and rows of pictures, his eagerness steadily dissipating the further he scrolled.

Christ, was  _ this _ what the average Hyperion employee looked like? Jack had always assumed that he avoided looking at his subordinates directly because of his obvious superiority, but maybe the real reason was because they were so viciously unattractive.

He was on the verge of exiting the app in disgust when one picture happened to catch his eye. He cocked a brow, humming in mild interest as he tapped onto the man’s profile for a closer look.

> **Rhys  
> ** 295 feet away  
>  27 years old  
>  Looking for: Dates, Networking, Relationships
> 
> **Corporate Dev Looking for Fun  
>  ** Pic or no chat etc etc, you know the drill. Also to the guy who said I look “skinny and pasty”: kiss my skinny, pasty ass.

_ Not bad _ , Jack thought. Cute  _ and _ a sense of humor. Weird name, though. How did you even pronounce that? Rice? Reese?

Jack got himself as comfy as possible, stretching his body along the length of the couch and resting his heels atop its arm.  _ Okay, Rhysie boy. Show me what you got. _

* * *

 

Rhys sagged into his seat as he sent what felt like the millionth email of the day. It was ten to seven and he was one of the few stragglers still at his desk. He skimmed the subject lines of the few remaining emails in his inbox and contemplated saving his responses for the next morning. His eyes wandered to the annoyingly passive aggressive email he had received from Vasquez earlier that day.

Yeah,  _ that _ one could definitely wait.

Rhys moved to gather his things, but paused when he heard his phone vibrate from atop his desk. He barely suppressed a groan when a Grindr notification greeted him upon unlocking his phone. He was  _ so _ not in the mood for this shit.

In fact, he had been thinking of uninstalling the app once and for all. Sure, it was good for laughs, sexts, and the occasional quickie, but it was starting to feel like he spent half his time on Grindr trading insults with random people. And some of these guys wouldn’t leave him the hell alone.

After a moment’s hesitation, Rhys reluctantly opened the app, fully expecting the message to just be a “heyyyyyy” or a “pics plz” from some thirsty twenty-something.

> **Jack  
>  ** hey there princess. you must really have no life if you’re still hanging around the office this late. make yourself useful and keep daddy entertained.

Wide-eyed, Rhys reread the message in disbelief then clicked onto the user’s profile.

> **Jack  
>  ** 295 feet away
> 
> **the one and only  
>  ** don’t waste my fuckin time

Rhys felt a healthy dose of skepticism seep in the moment his initial shock wore off. This  _ had _ to be a fake. Hell, the guy was even using Jack’s Twitter profile pic. What an amateur.

295 feet was a short enough distance that this person had to be somewhere in the Hyperion office, but from what Rhys could tell, the app was fairly bad at calculating vertical distance. Which meant this guy, whoever he was, could’ve been on any number of floors in the building. Rhys opened his texts, messaging the first suspect that came to mind: Vaughn.

> real funny, jerk. you almost had me for a sec.

He received the reply almost instantaneously.

> >um…? was this meant for someone else or….?

Rhys frowned at his friend’s apparent confusion, a knot forming at the pit of his stomach. To his knowledge, Vaughn was the only person in the workplace who was aware of his … admiration for Jack.

> aren’t you the one messing with me on grindr rn
> 
> >omfg rhys  
>  >grindr???  
>  >why the hell would i be on grindr?????

Rhys’s eyes zeroed in on the string of question marks, unimpressed. He typed a quick “nevermind” and sent it just as he received another Grindr notification.

> >helloooo? i know i’ve stunned you to silence but you need to get it together pumpkin. i don’t got all night.

Rhys worried his bottom lip as he cautiously formed his response. Regardless of who this was, their messages were too intriguing to ignore.

> That’s a pretty good impersonation. Careful tho, the real Jack would kill you if he found out about this.
> 
> >enlighten me kiddo. how do you know i’m not the real jack?

This gave Rhys pause. He supposed he had no actual proof, but the idea that he, of all people, was getting hit on by THE Jack--the man he had been harboring an embarrassing fanboy-esque crush on for years--was just absurd.

> I guess I don’t really know. But I assume that Jack has way more important things to do than mess around on Grindr.
> 
> >well duh kid. the amount of work i do would blow your little mind away.  
>  >but all work and no play makes jack a dull boy. you’re my little toy for tonight so try not to bore me too much.
> 
> Okay then “Jack”. How about a picture, a real picture, to get me started?
> 
> >nah i’ll leave you guessing, keep things interesting. “is this the real jack? is this ol what’s his face from IT screwing with me?”  
>  >i’m sure that precious little head of yours is just spinning with possibilities

Rhys felt the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile. He was starting to warm up to the idea of going along with this charade. And he couldn’t deny that the opportunity to roleplay his fantasies was appealing, especially with someone who was so in-character.

Before Rhys had the chance to write something in reply, he got another message.

> >you a bottom? you look like one.

Laughter bubbled from his lips, despite himself. “Do I though?” Rhys mumbled under his breath, amused more than anything.

> Haha, I’m bottom-leaning but pretty versatile. I can do whateeeeever you want. ;)
> 
> >sure you can princess. i bet you’d trip over your own feet at the chance to be my bitch.  
>  >how about it kiddo? do you fantasize about me fucking you in my office? you on all fours under my desk while i pound your ass hard enough to make you cry?

Rhys’s throat constricted, breath catching from the sudden tightness. He instinctively hugged his phone closer to his chest and warily glanced around him, even though he knew the office was empty. He peeked at the screen once more, heat rushing to his face as he reread the rather vivid scene the message depicted.

The worst thing was, Rhys could deny none of it. He wondered exactly how open he should be with this random person. After all, whoever this was apparently worked at Hyperion, and this whole conversation was grade A blackmail material.

But then again, he was getting pretty horny. So fuck it.

Rhys glanced over his shoulder one last time before typing his response. Just in case.

* * *

Jack drummed his fingers impatiently as he awaited a response. Sexting was stupid, he decided. What the hell was taking this kid so long to reply? Normally, by now he would’ve ordered this Rhys guy to come up to his office for a quick nut and run, but he found it pretty funny that he was mistaken for an impostor.

He could just imagine the expression on the kid’s face upon finding out that he was talking to the real deal the whole time. He was probably going to feel like a total dumbass, and it was gonna be  _ awesome _ .

His phone screen lit up as it alerted him of a new message. “Frickin’ finally,” he muttered under his breath.

> >Actually, yeah… I’ve definitely had the under the desk sex fantasy before. But it’s usually a blowjob and it ends with Jack cumming into my throat. Or on my face.  
>  >Sometimes I’m shirtless and he cums onto my chest.

Jack was so taken aback by the frankness of the admission that his jaw went slack. He skimmed the words over and over again, laughter spilling from his lips and taking on an increasingly hysterical tone with each reread.

“Daa-aa-aaaayum!” Jack finally managed to say, an amused glint in his eyes. This kid was  _ way _ less vanilla than he looked. Hell, he might actually get to have some real fun with this one. The thought alone made him downright  _ euphoric _ .

> wow kiddo you’re into some really degrading shit. that is just perfect.  
>  be a dear and send a picture of that chest that you so desperately want me to violate.

After a minute passed with no response, Jack gritted his teeth in annoyance and decided to go for an even more direct approach.

> picture. now.
> 
> >Okay, hold on. I have like five layers of clothes on.

Jack would’ve complained, but then again, he was wearing a crap ton of layers too. Some of his fashion sense must’ve trickled down to the peasants far below him.

After another minute passed in silence, he decided to complain anyway.

> you’re really killing my buzz here rhysie   
>  hurry the fuck up
> 
> >”Rhysie”? Really?  
>  >Well anyway… since you rushed me, you get this blurry mess.

The next message contained the photo, and true to his word, it was shit quality. Jack squinted at the fuzzy pixels, making out the soft contours of his bare chest and stomach. He really  _ was _ skinny and pasty, save for the tattoos: thick, black concentric circles along the arch of his neck and a curved line of cerulean bullet-shaped marks (seriously, what the hell  _ were _ those?) framing his collarbones. Jack thought the ink accentuated his pale skin rather nicely, despite the tattoos themselves looking a bit like crop circles.

With interest, Jack noted the thin trail of hair that began below his bellybutton and disappeared beneath the hem of his pants. Rhys’s lips just barely peeked out from beneath the top edge of the picture, his bottom lip already moist with saliva. Judging by the claustrophobic gray enclosure and tiled flooring in the background, it looked like the kid relocated to a bathroom stall.

A bathroom selfie. Classy.

> your hands must be shaky as shit to take pictures like that.  
>  i’m sure you’re nervous about disappointing me but try not to piss yourself in that bathroom you’ve holed yourself up in.
> 
> >Ha, you’re funny.

He felt his brow reflexively tick at the sarcasm. What a little shit. 

> >Sorry for the crappy picture. I’ve kinda let myself go the past few weeks so I’m looking a little soft.  
>  >If I knew Handsome Jack was checking me out, I would’ve hit the gym.

Jack rolled his eyes at the obvious lie. As if this scrawny swish got swole at the gym on a regular basis. Valiant attempt at convincing him otherwise, though.

> nah, i like you better like this. soft skin is pliant, easier to mark.  
>  i’d eat you up kid.
> 
> >God I hope so. I always imagined Jack as a biter.  
>  >Possessive and territorial.

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

> >Jack biting my shoulder while I’m riding him is one of my fav fantasies.  
>  >I get hard just thinking about it
> 
> i bet you moan my name when you jerk off to the image of me fucking that sweet little ass of yours  
>  fingering yourself and wishing it was my rock hard cock ramming into you instead

As much as he loved to boast, Jack didn’t think he could get an erection just from describing his own dick. But … well, there it went. The relative tightness of his jeans was definitely assisting him in this rather impressive milestone.

> >I imagine him fucking me raw  
>  >Hard enough that his fingers leave bruises on my hips  
>  >Him grunting and panting against my neck

Jack let out a low, shaky breath as he reached down with his free hand, palming his arousal through the layers of fabric trapping it. He had really hit the jackpot with this one. Sure, there were tons of people who had total hard-ons for him, but this kid was practically  _ begging _ for it. He imagined plunging himself into that mouth of his, all soft lips and wet tongue, sucking Jack like it was his life’s mission to get him off.

> send a picture of your ass  
>  and don’t take a goddamn hour to do it this time

This time, the response was almost immediate. Jack’s eyes widened at the photo, which was much clearer than the first one he had sent over.

Damn. So that’s where all the meat in his body had gone. Round, plump, and surprisingly perky: Jack could  _ definitely _ imagine burying himself between those cheeks.

Finding the friction unbearable, he momentarily set his phone down to unbuckle the clasp of his belt and roughly tug his pants down to his thighs. He gripped the base of his cock with one hand, then reclaimed his phone with the other, grin stretching wide across his face as he tapped out his next command.

* * *

> >atta boy  
>  >start stroking yourself nice and slow for me babe  
>  >and try to last longer than two pumps

Rhys leaned his forehead against the door of his stall, his breath hitching as he thumbed the slit of his cock, smearing precum across the head. He knew he shouldn’t be taking these insults without dishing out a few of his own, but his brain felt foggy, any anger or annoyance blunted by heat and arousal.

This had to be some kind of personal record. Never before had he descended to this level of depravity so quickly, at least not with a complete stranger. It mortified him to think that the person he was sexting could be absolutely anyone. For all he knew, some 60-year old perv was blowing his load over his ass picture at that very moment.

He blocked out  _ that  _ mental image and instead pretended he was chatting with someone else. A very specific someone else.

With shaky fingers, he managed to reply:

> Shit it feels so good  
>  I’m already leaking like crazy

Rhys closed his eyes, holding his phone in a loose grip as he continued stroking himself with his dominant hand, keeping the pace nice and slow, just as he had been ordered to. He thought of Jack, the real Jack, reading his messages on his phone and touching himself in the exact same way. Jack pulling his cock out from his opened fly, slick and fully erect, gazing at his pictures through half-lidded eyes.

> >you really get off on following orders don’t you  
>  >i bet you’d cum on command

Rhys still managed a chuckle, despite the dryness of his throat. He hated being bossed around. It was one of the primary reasons why he wanted to become a director, so that he could deal less with the Vasquezs of the world.

But there was something about Jack, specifically, that tempered his usual irritation at being ordered around, insulted, and, well, being treated like shit in general. He had a magnetism that made Rhys hang onto his every scathing word.

> Yeah  
>  I would if it was jack
> 
> >of course you would  
>  >tell me how much you want me

After a moment’s hesitation, Rhys steeled himself and activated his phone’s camera. He aimed the lens downwards, bringing it close enough that his cock took up most of the frame. He used his free hand to cup the underside of his shaft, and snapped the shot just as the head twitched, a bead of precum oozing from the tip.

He got a response almost immediately after sending it.

> >goddamnit kitten  
>  >i can’t wait to get my hands on you  
>  >i’ll make you scream so hard the whole fucking city will hear it

Rhys sucked in a breath, shoulders trembling as he increased the tempo, pumping so fast that it almost hurt. A scene weaved its way into his mind, of his own flushed, naked body pressed against the glass of the huge floor-to-ceiling window in Jack’s office, his hot breaths fogging up the view of the city below as Jack plowed him from behind at a merciless rhythm. He imagined watching Jack’s reflection lean down to nip at the back of his neck, gentle at first before biting down hard enough to bruise.

Rhys bucked his hips as he came with a muffled cry, semen coating his fingers and spilling onto the stall door. He slumped against the wall as he rode out the aftershocks of pleasure, struggling to catch his breath.

> Fuck  
>  I came
> 
> >congratulations kid

He used toilet paper to clean up to the best of his ability, silent apologizing to the janitor for the fresh stain he’d left on the door. Whoops.

Rhys finished buttoning up his shirt as he exited the bathroom and left his vest and jacket slung over his arm, not bothering to put them back on. He sent one last reply as he made his way back to his desk.

> Thanks, I actually enjoyed myself.  
>  You make a pretty convincing Jack.

He gathered his things in a hurry, happy to  _ finally _ leave the office and grab something to eat. As he was packing his bag, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and ignored it, assuming it was another message from the Grindr guy. He paused when he felt the phone vibrate again. And again.

Rhys frowned at the number displayed on his phone, one he didn’t recognize save for the Manhattan area code. He usually sent calls from unknown numbers straight to voicemail, but he had the odd, inexplicable feeling that he should take this one.

“Hello?”

“Heyyy there, Rhysie. Or Rice-y? How do you even say this name?” Rhys felt his blood run cold. Before he could even process the question, the man continued, “Whatever. Anyway, I gotta say, installing Grindr on your Hyperion-issued work phone? Dumb move, kid. Funny, yeah, but really,  _ really _ dumb.”

It took a few good tries for Rhys to find his voice again. “Jack?” he asked in a hushed tone, wary of speaking any louder despite the emptiness of his surroundings. He may have never met the Hyperion CEO in person, but the man was everywhere: on TV, in magazines, on the Youtube videos he secretly watched at his desk when no one was looking. He’d recognized his voice instantly.

Jack answered with a laugh that seemed to grow in volume the longer it went on. “The look on your fuckin’ face, kid, oh my god. You look like you’re having a stroke or something. Seriously, look at your reflection right now, it’s friggin’ hilarious.”

“How-” Rhys began, but stopped when the word came out as a squeak. He cleared his throat and tried again. “How are you seeing my face?” He spun around wildly, half expecting Jack to suddenly pop up behind him.

“The security cams, dumdum. There’s one in each corner of every room.”

Rhys turned to face the nearest one, which was now pointed directly at him. He noticed the lens extend to zoom in on his face and he ducked behind his computer monitors, shielding his (now very red) face from view.

“Aww, c’mon, princess. Don’t get shy on me now. Not after everything you’ve already told me.”

Rhys glanced at the windows on the opposite end of the room and wondered if the fall would kill him. At the moment, he wasn’t sure whether or not that was the preferred outcome.

Jack,  _ Handsome Jack _ , now knew that Rhys daydreamed about him fucking his face. Among other things. He let out another involuntary squeak as he remembered  _ those other things _ he had shared with Jack. “My pictures...”

“Ahhh,  _ yes _ . Your pictures. Don’t worry, babe, I”ll be keeping those real safe. Oh, and nice ass, by the way. Don’t think I took the time to sing its praises while we were in the thick of it, but ... damn. That is one nice ass.”

“Um,” Rhys started, his mind a total blank. “Thanks. I guess.”

There was silence for a few moments, then a sigh from Jack. “Since your brain seems to have entered a vegetative state, I’ll cut this short. I have a bunch of high priority shit to finish up tonight, but expect a call from this number later this week. We can act out allllll those creative little scenarios you’ve thought up in that head of yours. Especially the one where you beg me to jizz in your face.  _ That _ one I like.”

There was another long pause as Rhys let the words sink in.

Wait. Was Jack actually interested in hooking up with him?

“Sure!” Rhys answered, a little too eagerly. “Oh, um, I mean, yes, sir.”

“It’s just Jack. I don’t want you screaming ‘sir’ when I make you cum. That’s just … weird.” In a brighter tone, Jack continued, “Anyway, get outta here already before your head explodes from all the blood rushing to it.” Rhys reflexively ducked behind his monitors again, which prompted a low chuckle from Jack. “See ya, kid.”

The moment the call ended, Rhys practically ran out of the building, making sure to keep his head down in case any of the security cams were trailing him. He waited until he was several blocks from the Hyperion building before pulling out his phone again.

He checked his Grindr app, but as expected, his entire conversation with Jack had “mysteriously” vanished. He moved on to his call record, eyes widening upon seeing that Jack’s phone number was still listed as the top entry.

There really wasn’t any need to keep it there. Jack clearly had his number, and he had essentially told Rhys “don’t call me, I’ll call you”.

And yet…

Rhys tapped the Add Contact button next to Jack’s number.

Just in case.


End file.
